Of Guiding Light & Hollowed Grounds
by topsyturvy1715
Summary: She watched over her men from above, and they fought on for her on the hollow ground. How can she save them when she's thousands of feet above them? She's their hero, the hope chasing away the darkness. She's their guiding light. She's their angel.Tab/OC
1. Mashed Potatoes

_**Disclaimer: I own nothing except my OC's and plot. I mean no disrespect towards the real men of Easy Company.**_

The loud roar of motors shook the barracks. Men scrambled out of cots, clutching their ears from the unknown sound. We jogged outside, the sun hadn't even risen yet. 5 Supermarine Spitfire fighter planes flew overhead, elegant wings stretched out longer than the horizon. Sobel stumbled out of his office, almost like a drunk, looking for the source of the sound. Soon all the companies were joining us in the sunrise.

The plane on the left end dipped significantly lower. It flew adjacent to Currahee, then flew straight over our heads. Some of the men jumped out of its way, but I didn't. The sheer confidence amazed me. The pilot knew what he was doing, and I respected him for that. We started running towards the landing area, hot the planes heels. The plane on the far right also dropped out, and they both sped in different directions.

They turned flew around in a circle, us in the middle. They faced each other, and sped up. They were only feet above our heads it seemed. Daring each other, each went straight. With only milliseconds before an fatal impact, they both turned hard right, narrowly missing each other. One straightened out and continued on, while the other looped around, meeting up and flying next to each other.

The men went wild, me included. They zoomed over our heads, guiding us towards the landing strip. They landed simultaneously, slowly drifting off towards the end of the narrow lane. We ran onto the concrete, hollering praises. Malarkey and Skip raced each other forward, nearly tripping each other. We circled the two planes, but the pilots beat us out.

They were laughing as the slipped out of the aircraft, sliding down the wings. One was sitting on the wing, the other plopped down on the ground. They removed their goggles and flight helmets. Everyone was stunned.

The genius pilots we thought were 'one of the boys' were women. Long locks of hair circled their faces, each a different shade. I only then noticed the intricate designs plastered on the tail of the planes. Each was different pose, but the all had a mustang painted in silver on the back. The other 3 pilots walked towards us, and they were all women too.

The woman on the left of the group had intimidating features. Her black hair was sharply slicked back, her icy blue eyes cold from age. She was at most 25, her tan skin free of wrinkles. The woman on her right had deep brown skin, with the same intimidating look on her face, her almost black eyes darting around. The leader had pale skin, a beauty mark directly above the left of her top lip, with copper eyes and brown hair. She was obviously the oldest and most experienced. The 3 women had crisp, professional, cool personas, not even blinking as they walked past us.

The other 2 reminded me of the guys here. They had innocence in their eyes, and bright lively spirits. The girl on the ground was about as tall as the men here, with pale skin, platinum blonde hair, pale pink lips, and dark blue eyes. The girl on the wing of her plane had long wavy hair, the color of rusted gold in braided pigtails. She had steel gray eyes, nude color lips, a straight nose, tan skin, and was petite. I think even Perconte was taller than her. A fact he seemed proud of.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Sobel screamed as he shoved us aside.

"Didn't the Colonel tell you?" The short one asked. She had a southern accent, maybe from Oklahoma?

"Tell me what?"

"We're training ta go ta war with ya fellows." She coolly replied back, with a smirk planted on her face. Sobel stormed out, gesturing for them to follow him. She shrugged at her friend and hopped down.

"Colonel Sink, a war is no place for a woman." Sobel stage whispered to the aging man behind the wooden desk.

"Now Lieutenant Sobel, these women have trained just as hard, if not harder, as the men here. These women have every right to go to war." Sink justified. I officially liked him.

"Yes, sir." Sobel quickly left his office, muttering insults as he left.

"Now young ladies, the Colonel at Avenger Field tells me that you are the best pilots he's ever seen. He also believes you should be overseas, helping your country, and I couldn't agree more. Which is why, under extremely rare circumstances does this happen, I am permitting you to train, and eventually go to war with my men."

"Thank you, sir." We all replied in unison.

"I make it a habit of mine to get to know my soldiers." We all knew that was a lie. "Each of you will report to me tomorrow morning, at different times. I usually wake the men up at about 5:30, so our meetings will be short. You there," he pointed to me.

"Yes, sir?"

"Report to my office at 4:30, and each of you show up 10 minutes after the other."

"Yes, sir." I groaned and Elizabeth tried to hold back her chuckle. I was hardly a morning person.

"Now, your Winters here will show you where you will be staying."

A tall man with flaming red hair, crystal blue eyes, pale skin with brown freckles scattered across his face met us outside. He nodded his head to us and showed us around. We were, unfortunately, forced to stay on the other far side of the base, passing by the men we were now sharing Easy Company with. One of the men, with soft brown hair and gentle eyes as brown as chocolate looked at us from outside the door of his barracks. Men were wandering around, dreading what they would do today.

"And here's where you will be staying, sorry it's not very comfortable, but it works." Winter apologized when he led us into a small barrack, which only held the necessary 5 beds. There was only about 2 inches between each bunk, and only about 5 feet of walking room. I love my girls, but this was going to be hell.

"Thank you, Winters." He blushed and hurried out.

"Oh, fuck!" Amy whispered when he left.

"What?" Anna asked, while laughing at the expression on my face.

"We don't have any extra clothes."

"Oh, shit." We all giggled, and tried to find our way back to Colonel Sinks office.

4:10 came too soon, and I was stumbling around in the dark, trying to retrace my steps back to the Colonels office. Men were still snoring, and I envied them with a passion. My hair was swaying back and forth from where it was perched high on my head in a loose ponytail. Unlike the other girls, I couldn't stand to have my hair pulled up. My hips and hair were in perfect rhythm, something I grew accustomed to. A figure was slowly approaching me from the front, his frame lean and skinny, and his milky white skin almost glowed in the early morning darkness. He sent me a casual smirk as he stopped in front of me.

"May I help you, ma'am?" His voice reeked of a caddy from California, the badgering tone evident while he talked.

"No, thank you," I stopped short, gesturing for a name.

"Joseph Liebgott."

"Well, thank you, Joseph. Now if you'll excuse me, I have somewhere to be."

"What's a pretty little lady like you walking around here at this God-forsaken hour of the morning?"

"I'm meeting with Colonel Sink, and I really need to hurry up." I quickly passed by him.

"Hey!"

"Yes?"

"I never heard what your name was."

"And who's fault is that?"

"Well, what is it?"

"That's for me to know, and you to find out." He chuckled and shook his head, before stalking back to wherever he was going before.

I finally made it to Sink's office, at exactly 4:29. I knocked and slowly entered. Nobody was there. This was his office, right? I snuck a peek at his desk. A picture of a handsome soldier was placed on the far right corner of his desk, with pictures of a women and children in front of it. Was that him as a soldier, and was this his family? I didn't have time to ponder, because his raspy voice broke through my thoughts. He was talking to a dark haired man I recognized as Sobel. I rolled my eyes and stood in front of his desk again.

"Ah, glad you could make it."

"Thank you, sir." He took a seat behind his giant desk again, before gesturing for me to sit.

"So, what is your name?"

"Nicole Zaborowski, sir."

"That's quite a name."

"Yes, it is, sir." I cracked my charming smile towards him.

"Yes. Where are you from?"

"Lawton, Oklahoma."

"Interesting. Why did you join the Air Force?"

"My dad was a pilot in World War 1, and he taught sissy and I how to fly when we were young. I knew I wanted to be a fighter pilot ever since."

"How old are you?"

"19, sir."

"And your sister?"

"23, sir."

"Hmmm. Do you have a nickname?"

"Back home they called me Nikko."

"Well, Nikko, it was a pleasure to meet with you. You may go back to your barracks. Sobel will wake you at 5:30, and you will go on a run up Currahee. Hopefully you can make it."

"Oh, I thoroughly believe in myself, and the other women, sir."

"That's good. I like your confidence, Section Officer Zaborowski."

"Thank you, sir."

I quickly walked out of his office, and headed back towards our barracks. Liz passed by me, yawning and shooting me a wink. I passed by the rows of barracks, and ran into another man I didn't recognize. This on, however, paid me no attention. I smiled kindly at him, and continued on my way.

It seemed like I was only asleep for a minute when Amy woke me up. I yawned and stretched.

"Come on, lets go, any day now ladies." She said in her loud Georgia accent.

"Oh, be quiet." I moaned, rolling over onto my side again.

"Fuck it." A hand grabbed my calf, ripped me out of bed, and left me lying on the floor. I groaned but sat up Indian style, with both legs tucked beneath me. I ruffled my dirty hair, and yawned again.

"Let's go, let's go, let's go!" Amelia shouted in her thick Brooklyn voice. Usually the rough accent reminded me of a solid brick wall that built a house, now it felt like that house was falling on top of me. Amelia became my big sister after I lost respect for mine. She slept with my fiancée, and became pregnant with his child.

I stifled another yawn and pattered out the door, right behind Liz. We made it to the meeting area, where the other men were standing. Another yawn tried to escape my mouth, and I hid it behind my fist.

Obnoxious cat calls started from the men. I rolled my eyes and pranced along anyways. I was suddenly very hyper. Hyper and I don't mix well together as you can imagine.

Sobel charged up to us, face contorted in anger. I blocked him out and listened to the fly that was buzzing around Amelia's head. We were ordered to stand in the back, at attention, while Sobel walked around, trying to find faults in his men. I suddenly remembered a quote my dad told me, "A leader leads by example not by force." Sobel was the opposite of the leader described. Maybe that's why I didn't like him. He talked bad about everyone else, but couldn't even prove he was better than us.

"We're running Currahee." His voice broke through my silent discussion. The men groaned but jogged back to the barracks.

Now I know why the men hat Currahee. It's not the fact it's a mountain, I can handle that. It's the fact rocks get in the way, and everyone has to stay in a pack. You can only go as fast as the person in front, and everyone in front of me was going slow. I was itching with impatience.

Sweat was pouring down Amy's dark skin, and beads were stuck in her thick black hair. Anna was glaring at the head of the soldier in front of her. Amelia was looking on with unnatural patience, and Liz was fidgeting like me.

A narrow part of the road broke out in front of us, and we were allowed to go our own pace. Liz and I, being the stupid ones, decided it would be a good idea to race. How very wrong we were. The soft ground simply absorbed all the energy my muscles were giving out. The springiness that was usually awake in each strand of my thigh and calf was now weak. I was having to put in twice the energy to travel half the distance I used to be able to run.

We finally made it to the top and back, our lungs aching with the effort. After we were all assembled at the bottom of Currahee, we were allowed to go ahead and eat breakfast.

Winters introduced us to a dark haired man named Lewis Nixon. He had one eyebrow that seemed permanently raised. I chuckled at the thought of his mother telling him that his 'face would freeze if he kept his face like that.' I smiled and half-heartily listened to Liz babble on to him. I missed my mom. I missed the way she would take her fresh pies out of the oven and leave them on the windowsill to cool down. I missed the feeling of her scruffy apron on my cheek when I would hug her when I was little. I missed her warm smile and warm brown eyes.

"Hey! No name!" A familiar voice sprung my from my thoughts. I heard another voice whisper that 'that was rude.'

"Liebgott!" I shouted back.

"So you remember me." I quickly informed Liz I was leaving, but she was too absorbed in Nixon-fever.

"So how are you?"

"Just dandy after that run."

"Huh. Yeah."

"Are you ever going to tell me your name."

"I don't know. Should I?"

"I don't know. I can keep calling you no-name. But I'm sure there's a pretty name to go with that pretty face."

"Aw. Are you seriously trying to flirt with me?"

"What if I am?"

We both started leaning in towards each other, eyeing each other up. I cocked my head to the side, and put on my innocent face. He broke out in a stupid grin, and I fluttered my eyelashes. He edged closer and closer, until we were only inches apart. In a quick instant I reached up, grabbed the back of his head, and slammed his face down into my mashed potatoes. Or the lame excuse that was mashed potatoes. He sputtered and looked at me indecorously. I smiled my sweetest smile.

"Damn Joe, what the hell happened to you. Your supposed to eat your food, not wear it." Another solder with a deep Philly accent said to him.

"Oh, I was just showing him what a facial was." Joe wiped the potatoes off, glared at me, and finally broke into fits of laughter.

"That was good. I like you no-name."

"Well, that's a relief. I couldn't be able to stand it if Joseph Liebgott didn't approve of me."

"Now you can rest well at night."

"Thank you, kind sir." The other men were looking at us with shocked expressions on their face, ever since I shoved Joe into the food. And I realized they thought I was going to die. They had probably never seen a woman put a man in his place, especially not a man like Joseph Liebgott. Who, let's face it, had an ass-hole aura around him.

"Is your name really no-name?" The Philly man asked.

"Yeah, you know, my parents couldn't decide what to name me, so they just named me no-name. It's quite remarkable. I think it's going to become a big name later on. You should seriously consider naming your kids no-name. It's a very masculine, but has a gentle touch to it, don't you think?"

"I'm going to go out on a limb and say your being a smart ass."

"Wow. Give this man an award, he's a genius. How ever did you figure me out?"

"Shut ya trap."

"Somebody woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. Or are you normally this sensitive?"

"Fuck you."

"When and where?" Food suddenly tumbled out of Joe's mouth, who was watching our interaction with an amused smirk. Philly man was staring with wide eyes, and the entire room was silent. Shit, how is it all the things I regret saying always end up being heard by the entire company?

"Right, well, I'm going to go before I say anything else stupid." I quickly scampered out of the mess-hall, my cheeks stained red. I heard the roar of laughter as I quickly walked away. The chuckle was getting closer, and I realized Philly man was following me.

"I wasn't serious about fucking you. It just slipped out."

"I know ya were. Just wanted to know ya name."

"Right. Nicole Zaborowski."

"Damn, how do you spell that?"

"N-I-C-"

"Not that, ya last name." He rudely interrupted me.

"Do you really wanna know?" "Not really."

"I imagine so. Can I know your name. I don't like referring to you as 'Philly Man.'"

"When did you call me that?"

"I didn't. I thought it."

"Right. I'm Bill. Bill Guarnere."

"Nice ta meet ya Bill Guarnere."

"You as well Nicole Zab-a-something-or-other."

"Zaborowski. You can just call me Nikko."

"Right. Nice ta meet a Nikko."

After that, the day passed uneventfully. We ran some more, did push-ups, sit-ups, and every other kind of ups. We finally ended with a 12 mile march, full pack. Sobel deemed us fit, and we were excused to leave.

Bill wrapped his arm around my shoulders and guided me back to the barracks. I realized I wasn't the only one who made new friends. Liz and Amelia were talking to Nixon and Winters, Anna was with some short Italian guy with a fetish for brushing his teeth, Amy was with George Luz, who laughed when Bill introduced me to him, asking if I would 'fuck him too?' Which earned him a slap on the back of the head from Liebgott, who took it upon himself to be protective of me. I yawned and leaned on Bill's shoulder.

"Do ya want me ta carry ya Nikko?"

"Nikko, that's ya name?" Joe asked from behind me.

"Aw, Bill, Joe wasn't supposed to know."

"Sorry no-name." Bill apologized.

"So Nikko's ya name, huh?"

"No, Joe. Nikko is not my name."

"Bull-shit."

"I don't think Bull took a crap anywhere around here. I think he has more manners than that. Plus I think we could of smelled it." I loved Bull, he was like a big, squishy, red-headed teddy-bear. Plus, he was my neighboring state. Just a little land border between us.

"I can't guarantee ya I didn't take a shit around here Oklahoma."

"Damn."

"So Nikko,"

"For the last time Joe, my name is not Nikko."

"Yes, it is. Why else would Guarnere call you it?"

"Because Bill is an idiot. That is something I can't control."

"Hey! I take offense to that." Bill said in his gravel-like voice.

"I'm surprised you know what offense means."

"Ouch. How did that feel on you ego, Guarnere?" Joe asked him.

"Please, Bill's ego has it's own solar system. I doubt it hurts too bad."

"I resent that."

"Wow. You know what resent means too. Damn, you're like a portable dictionary."

"Shut ya trap."

"Aw, this is how our relationship got started Bill. Except now Joe doesn't have mashed potatoes all over his face. I must say Joe, your face looks much silkier and healthier now. I take full credit for all the ladies that are going to be attacking his face, begging for sex."

"Are you drunk?"

"How on earth would I be drunk Bill?"

"I don't know, you Southerners love your whiskey. Maybe Bull slipped you some."

"No, trust me, you'll know when I'm drunk."

"I want to see little Nikko drunk." Joe taunted from behind me.

"Joe, I swear to all things Holy, next time you call me Nikko I will shove my foot so far up your ass you will be able to taste it."

"Ok, Nikko." I quickly jerked out of Bill's grasp, turned around, and tackled the boy from San Francisco, my knee landing dangerously close to his family jewels.

"Next time, Joe, I won't miss."

"Ok." I shoved myself off him and resumed talking to Bill. He chuckled and draped his arm over me again.

_So there it is, the first chapter. I didn't realize it was going to be this long. 7 whole pages. Wowzers. So the girls here are from __**WASPS: Women Airforce Service Pilots, **__who were women learned to fly all the main aircrafts in WW2. The women didn't go overseas, but I changed that up a little bit. I'll be putting pictures up of all the new character soon. _

Guiding Light


	2. Hell On Earth

**A/N: So, I didn't realize how long I went without writing this. I can't believe I went 8 months without revisiting. I have no reasonable excuse, and I'm sorry for taking so long. I think part of the loss of interest came from Winters dying. I came to the conclusion that the heroes we rooted for on TV were not invincible, and could actually die, even though they survived for months in WW2. I felt like I was impersonating a person who was so much better than I could make him out to be. I then noticed that the HBO version of the men had been changed from the original men. Artistic license I suppose. Which is why I feel more comfortable about writing this. The actors were just portraying the men. I meant no disrespect to the real heroes, and I finally came to terms the men we write about are not the real thing. So I guess that means I'm back.**

**A/N 2: I do not own the material of Band of Brothers, that belongs to the geniuses of HBO. I do own my original characters.**

6:00 came too soon for my liking for a Saturday. I hadn't been sleeping rather well, staying up past O Dark Thirty, staring outside, as though I was waiting for something to happen. The sun peeked in and warmed my exposed face. Sobel could be heard shouting from the office of Colonel Sink. Something about taking away our weekend passes. He had already taken ours away for this weekend, which started today, was he already plotting to steal the freedom of the town of Tocca from us next week? . I heard a Philly accent from outside and it reminded me of my buddy Bill. Over the few weeks I have spent with the men, we slowly grew closer through the insane workouts and the sparse downtime.

"Outta my way." The voice was most defiantly Bill. I groaned and flopped back down onto my bed, head ringing. I ticked through possible scenarios as to why Bill Guarnere was trying to break into my barrack. I then heard George Luz, Bull, Joe Toye, and Skip Muck whispering about something. Had I been smart, I would of gone back to sleep and ignore them, but, then again, I'm not very smart.

See, in the early morning, I was too busy complaining about my loss of sleep to pay attention to slight detail. Like the way the door had been pushed open slightly, the way a small dripping noise kept plunking against the scratchy wooden floor, and the fact Lizzie and Amy had pushed their bunks as far away from the door as physically possible. But, sadly, I didn't. Instead, I pushed the door open, a bucket of cold, sudsy water falling on my head.

Now, when a person get doused with cold water, usually the recipient gets quiet and the givers howl with laughter. But whoever said paratroopers were normal? They sign up to jump out of an airplane, for God's sake. So, I'm standing there, quivering with cold water, laughing, trying to wrap my brain around what just occurred, and have a deep suspicion that my entire body can be seen thought the stark white tee-shirt, but the men are dead silent. And then George Luz, George-mother-fuckin'-Luz, starts singing, or rather, screaming 'Happy Birthday' to me. The rest of the men, with gaping mouths like they were trying to catch the horse flies infamous in Georgia, started to scream along.

The rest of the company poked their head out of their doors, shoving a few men out so everyone could see, some resorting to plastering their faces against the slimy window made out of what was supposed to be glass, I'm sure. Bill was standing closest to me, his face pure shock.

"William Guarnere." I hissed, and the entire company went silent.

"Yes, Nicole Zaborowski?" His rough voice came out as a whisper.

"Please explain something to me."

"Ok, shoot."

"Oh, I planning on shooting, I just don't have a gun right now."

"I meant go ahead and ask."

"Please explain why I am soaking wet, George is singing to me, when last time I checked, it isn't even my birthday, and why does everyone else know something I don't."

"Uh, I don't know why you are wet, but I do know why George is singing."

"And why is that?"

"It's your birthday." I shot him my most exasperated look, confusion setting in.

"It's not my birthday."

"Yes it is."

"I think I would remember the day my mother shot me out of her vagina."

"Oh. Just out of curiosity, when is your birthday?"

"June 6th... Liz!" I screamed with panic.

"What?" A muffled groan asked from the other side of the room.

"What day is today?"

"The sixth."

"Of?"

"June. Happy Birthday!" A ruffled voice shouted, and I realized it was Amelia. I had forgotten my own birthday. George started up the chorus again, and Amy forced me out to meet my fans.

"Come, young child, for the day is still young." Skip shouted as he draped an arm around my still soaking shoulders, herding me through the crowd.

"Skip."

"Yes?" He looked at me with exasperation.

"Can I please go to the bathroom. I have to piss like a race horse."

"Oh, sure, be my guest."

"Thank you for your permission to enter your humble abode."

"The bathroom is far from what my home is like."

"Well, it sure smells the same." A gaggle of giggling came from that comment, and I proudly skipped away.

"Nicole. Nicole! Section Officer Zaborowski !" A sharp voice broke me out of my nap on the mess hall table.

"Hmmmmm?" I looked up to meet the cold brown eyes of Amelia. The men stared in awe of the beauty she held, but also the power she exposed through her stance. She was in charge and she knew it.

"You need to go see Doc Roe."

"Why? I'm not injured."

"That was not a question, that was a command." She snarled.

"I'm not sick."

"If you do not move your ass within the next second, I will cite you for ignoring an order and you will be out of the paratroopers before you can say Currahee."

"I only get one second? Cause Currahee is a long word. A whole 3 syllables." It's not that I didn't like the kind and gentle Doc, I did. I just didn't want anyone else to notice how weak I was compared to the men, even compared to the 4 women I traveled here with. Admitting your weakness is one thing, having it pointed out was another.

"Now!" her voice, normally calm and soft, was filled with rage. Rage I knew from past experiences not to ignore.

"Ok. I'm going." I said while slowly rising off the bench. Purposefully making a large gap as I walked around her. Eugene was standing by the door, smiling guiltily.

He shined the light back into my eyes, making me flinch at the sudden brightness. He nodded, hummed, and wrote something down on my medical chart, shoved haphazardly on the clipboard resting next to my knee.

"Can you count backwards from 10?"

"10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5..." Suddenly a pounding headache spread throughout my brain, destroying my thoughts and making everything a blur. I groaned and buried my head into my hands.

"Section Officer Zaborowski! Are you alright?" I took a deep breath and nodded firmly, ignorant of the spinning of the room and my sudden desire to vomit.

"I'm great!"

"Boots, scissors, morphine, spaghetti, and bayonet. Can you repeat those 5 things in the same order?" I scoffed before beginning.

"Boots, morphine… No spaghetti, boots… Spaghetti, boots, morphine… Scissors, morphine… Um… Boots, morphine, spaghetti, scissors, and… Uh…" My brain was in overdrive, causing the entire world to hurl. Gene was looking on with sympathy, or what looked like sympathy, since he was spinning around the room at breakneck speeds.

A bang echoed in the clinic, and four spirited voices entered my ears and made everything hurt.

"Nikko!" Joe… Liebgott was here somewhere, but I couldn't even tell the difference between the door and the chair.

"Hey kiddo! Happy Birthday Nicole!" A strange blob was coming towards me, three more forming one in the back.

"Liebgott, I think you need to go." Roe's voice of reason entered from the other side of me. Everything was swirling, voices entering and exiting without even a greeting card to tell me who it was.

I vomited. Everywhere. I was on my hands and knees', a strange smelling bucket forced in front of my face, which I clung to like my life depended upon it. Everything was still spinning, like a ride on a Ferris Wheel, if that Ferris Wheel was going 40 miles per hour.

"Eugene. Make it stop. Dear God, please make it stop." I moaned, burying my face into the chest of who I thought was Doc Roe, but was Guarnere.

"Well, I know what's wrong."

"What?" I croaked.

"You have a concussion." I simply groaned and placed my head on the rickety wood of the room.

1 week had passed, and nothing new came out of the situation. The cause of my concussion was still unknown. I blamed George, saying the symptoms appeared after being doused with cold water. But Gene pointed out that idea was unlikely, seeing as I couldn't remember what day it was before that. I then remembered that I had toppled down Currahee once, after slipping on a misplaced rock on the way down. But that was two weeks ago. Nonetheless Amelia made sure someone was with me at all times, to keep me sane and watch over me. A small concussion and suddenly I was made of glass. This usually meant Doc Roe was with me, excusing him from training drills, like rolling around in pig guts. But on weekends, or after dinner was served, the other guys would visit me. Usually Bill or Joe would sit with me, shooting the breeze. So I was thoroughly surprised when Floyd Talbert waltzed in to talk to me the day before I was cleared to leave, and go back to pointless military crap.

"Tab! What are you doing here?"

"Bill and Joe got hung up."

"Oh. What are they doing?"

"Running up Currahee." He deadpanned.

"What did they do?" I shrieked.

"What they are always doing. Being idiots."

"Oh. So they sent you."

"Well don't sound disappointed." He said, something unrecognizable in his eyes.

"I'm not. It's just, well, you don't usually shoot the shit with them."

"I'm joking. You hardly know me. I didn't expect you to bow at my feet for visiting you."

"Well, maybe I would have, if Doc Roe would let me stand up."

"You don't value Doc's advice?"

"No, I do. But you can only do so much laying in a bed."

"Yeah, I guess so." This is what I liked about Talbert. Bill, Joe, or even George would have said some vulgar comment about one particular thing you could do in bed, but Floyd didn't even mention it. And I appreciated that.

"So. How goes the outside world?"

"Uh. The same. Sun still rises in the East and sets in the West. 24 hours a day, 7 days in a week, 365 days a year, with the exception of Leap Year every four years."

"Oh, hush!" I said while pushing his head in a playful manner. Which it was, until I accidentally brushed his hair through my fingers, musing about the softness felt even with the sweat slicking it up and back at odd angles. I coughed and snapped my hand back before it got the intention to wander anywhere else or implant itself in his hair.

He cleared his throat, drummed his fingers on the bed, and shot up like a stick on parade.

"Well, it's been enjoyable to stay and talk, but curfew is in a few minutes, and I have to make it back to barracks." He stated, dismissing himself.

"Yeah. Ok." I whispered. More to myself than anyone.

I was finally released, and took a deep breath of the sickly sweet stench of man sweat and dirty teeth. I skipped along, searching for my friends, and somewhat for Tab, so as I could apologize. Bull intercepted me, hoisting my up over his shoulder to avoid me 'Running off once ya see the fireworks Joe and Bill set up just for ya.' So now men were hooting and hollering from my much anticipated arrival. We reached the mess hall, and I expected Bull to set me down, but, as usual, I was wrong.

He clomped up the stairs, carrying me all the way to the line, before setting me down and demanding I received more spaghetti. Bill was the first who saw me, confusion sweeping over as everybody moved in the crowded lunchroom. He bowled over towards me, steering me towards the safety of a table. He pushed me through the isle, so I was sitting next to Perco. He ran off to talk to someone, while I stared blankly at my plate. He came back with food, nudging me over so he could sit.

"Nicole, you can't eat food just by staring at it. You have to actually put it in your mouth and swallow." He said while swallowing his food whole.

"I'm afraid." I whispered quietly.

"Of spaghetti? I know it ain't real Italian, but it's better than the crap they've been feeding us for months. Tell you what, when we get outta here, I'll take ya to Philly and show you some REAL spaghetti!" He concluded, a stray noodle trying to escape his brutal munching.

"I'm not afraid of spaghetti."

"Why aren't you eating then?"

"This ain't spaghetti. This is army noodles with ketchup." Perco said, butting into our conversation. Some man reached over, willing to take his meal. I was more than willing to give mine up. I poked the orange noodles around, peeked over my shoulder, and confessed my secret.

"I'm scared of Sobel.".

"Why?" Bill asked, still devouring. The men were sloppy, eating and talking, so there was no possible way for anyone else to hear me.

"I feel like some crazy shit is about to go down…like Sobel is setting us up…" before I could answer what Sobel was setting us up for, the man burst in, ordering us to run up Currahee. I would have been happy that I was right, if it wasn't for the giant mountain I was about to climb.

I was momentously glad that I chose not to eat. Orange colored vomit was spewing everywhere, and I smiled grimly. I didn't eat it, but now my stomach was churning because I was so hungry. We reached the top, and slowly worked our way to the bottom. Bill staying next to me. Once we were dismissed, I collapsed on the sweet, solid ground, pulling the dirt through my fingertips.

"Section Officer Zaborowski." Colonel Sink's raspy voice brought me out of my revere. I jumped up hastily, and saluted. He saluted back, and motioned for me to come with him. I noticed all the girls were with him, but that's not all I noticed. We had all changed. Elizabeth had suspicious bruises on her neck, and would blush whenever Lieutenant Nixon would look her way. Amy had been sent back the W.A.S.P's because she couldn't handle the intensive training. Amelia had a lighter look in her eyes, and seemed to catch the eye of a Lieutenant in Dog Company. Had I changed? I couldn't tell. I didn't feel different.

We were herded in Colonel Sink's office. Once the door slammed with excessive relish by his personal assistant, I realized only bad news was to come.

"Now, ladies. I called you here to inform you of the personal choice you will have to make today. I will pass no judgment, nor an biased opinion as to your decision. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir." We all replied in unison.

"Good. Now, the men are being sent to England to receive more intensive training, and to be prepared of the incoming invasion. You ladies must decide. Would you like to be sent back to Avenger Field, where you shall continue your Air Force training. Or you could go with the men to Britain. Your choice. Now, before you decide, I have one question. Do you know why your Squadron Officer, Amy La Blanc, left the company?"

"Yes, sir." I responded. The others didn't.

"And why was that, Section Officer Zaborowski?"

"Because she couldn't hold her own, and felt that she couldn't adapt well enough, sir."

"And I respect her for that," We all raised quizzical eyebrows. Sobel had drilled into us that giving in was a weakness.

"It takes true strength to find you weakness. But it takes true bravery to push past those limits. Just remember that in your decision. I do not expect, nor do I want your answers until tomorrow. Please think carefully. If you decide to continue training, you will be briefed next week. You are dismissed."

I sat up all night, thinking of my decision. I couldn't seek comfort in Bill, couldn't hear advice from Joe, or even hear from Floyd. If I stayed I could very well die. But was it worth it to give in and go back to doing a woman's job. I had worked too hard to prove myself to these men.

"Nikko?" Liz asked from across the room.

"Yeah?" I didn't realize how far we had grown apart. I recognized the bright blonde hair, the clear blue eyes, and the pale as snow skin. But I didn't recognize the person inside of those features. She had been my only friend at flying school, someone who I needed to help me through the immense pressure, now I had replaced her. Had she been reaching out, and I ignoring her because I had new friends?

"What are you going to do?"

"I don't know. What are you doing?"

"I want to go, but I don't think I'll be strong enough."

"What do you mean, you were the strongest out of all of us!"

"No, that was you."

"What are you talking about?"

"You were always the first to try something, and the fearless one. If someone said you couldn't do something, you did everything in your power to prove them wrong."

"I think you confused me with Amelia. You are talking about me, Nicole, right?"

"Yes. Even Amelia admired your strength."

"What strength?"

"When you had that concussion, you stood up to her because you didn't want to be seen as weak, or treated better than the men. Anyone else would have gone to the Medical Station after taking the fall you did. But you didn't. You ran all the way back, and didn't even bother to bandage up. It takes real strength to give up your own needs, just to stay with a buddy. That's why I drifted away from you. You were so strong, and I was so weak in comparison, I didn't want to be seen as the weak link."

"Oh,"

"So I think you should definitely go. Because if anyone can survive a war, it's you."

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it." We were both sitting up by now our beds closer together and our feelings laying out on the floor. Anyone could step on the vulnerable state we were in.

Morning came quickly, and I didn't even second guess my decision. As we walked down to the Colonel's office in our flying uniforms, I couldn't help but feel everything come back into a circle. We had arrived the same way we came, just with fewer numbers.

Anne decided she couldn't go to war and die, so Colonel Sink dismissed her with a wave of his hand. I would miss the gossip sessions she would hold every night, and the way her slick hair reminded me of raven feathers. Liz chose to go to Europe and fight out this bloody war. Amelia, under much deliberation and arguments, and agreed to stay.

And I was going to War. With nothing but the smooth metal of a fighter plane to protect me from sudden death.


	3. Of Ships and Soldiers

**Sorry it took so long for me to update. I went on vacation and had this all written out, only to come back and find that my computer had crashed, and all my documents were forever lost in the abyss of space land. So I rewrote this with much aggravation after a week or so of deliberation, and this is the spawn of an angry attempt to make this story continue on. I am thrilled to be writing again and this story will have a weekly update. Let me know in the reviews which day you would like me to post. Thank you for sticking it out. Once again, I do not own Band of Brothers nor do I own the characters involved in this writing. I do, however, own my OC's.**

After a few more week of training, the moment had arrived; I was going to vomit. It was time to get our jump wings. I didn't have the problem with flying, I loved it. I loved the sudden feeling of your stomach lifting, of being thousands of feet above the world. I lived for the feeling of being a few feet below Heaven, or what ever waited up there for us. But jumping out of an airplane at high altitude going at least 50 miles per hour with only a pillowcase to hold you up. That made me want to vomit. I could just as easily push myself off a cliff and have almost the same effect, but they seemed to think we should fall onto the ground with a giant splat so everyone could see our blood and guts spewed upon the chute, and so the Captains could cluck their tongues at our stupidity. Depressing thoughts aside, I was not excited to be doing this.

Amelia was busing talking to Winters about how we could arrange it so that the remaining females wouldn't be groped during equipment check. Since Amelia was a higher ranking soldier, she would be jumping in the stick assigned for the Lieutenants, and Winters would be the one checking her. That left Liz and I with finding a way to avoid sexual assault. I trusted most of the boys, but some I wouldn't want to find myself alone with in a dark alley. Since I knew more of the guys, we decided I would check Lizzie, and someone would check me. Now who that someone would be was the question. I would defiantly not trust George, especially since he had recently invented "Grab Fanny" for the purpose of messing with the guys, or to find a creative way to fondle the females. Thus far it had only been me that had been "Grabbed" and it ended with a verbal lasing at Luz from both myself and the some of other men. So that excluded Skip, Perconte, and Penckala. I would consider Lipton, but he was in a different group. Bull was an option, but he had said 'No' because I was too small and he didn't want to reach down and 'accidentally' brush anything. So that left Joe, Bill, and Floyd.

Which is how I got into the situation I was currently in. I didn't want to offend Joe or Bill by asking the other, since they were already on thin ice and liked each other as far as they could throw the other. So that left Floyd. Since the incident in the make shift hospital, he had avoided me like a mouse avoids a cat. I would see him one moment, the next he was gone. It was quite annoying. Eventually I ended up storming after him once our daily run up Currahee was finished, and demanded that he check my equipment. He had a confused look at first, but nodded and agreed before speeding off somewhere with Gordon. I 'humphed' and went back to barracks a content, if slightly agitated female.

Now the day had arrived, and we were sitting on the ground, staring up at our instructor with wide, child-like eyes. When it was time to board the plane, I nearly hurled. Webster was standing beside me, practically holding me up.

"Are you okay to make it?" He asked low enough so the others didn't hear. I nodded my head as more bile rose in my throat. Our instructor made it perfectly clear that any hesitation at the door, going in or coming out, would result in no jump wings, and no jump wings meant no war. Tab boarded, and it was time for my 5'1 frame to try and scramble into the roaring machine. I hoisted myself up, with a little help from Web pushing my feet up. I took a quivering breath and shuffled my way towards the back of the plane. Right after I sat down, Someone next to Tab pushed something in the general direction of my face. The odd stench of bad breath and tobacco wafted up to my crinkled nose. A cigarette. I personally hated smoking, but for a brief second the idea of nicotine numbing my nerves flashed through my brain, though I promptly denied the urge, shaking my head at whoever was offering the stick to me. He just shrugged and continued smoking.

The loud engines roared, taking off unsteadily, and I let my head fall back, resting on the steel wall of the plane. I took a few deep breaths, creating a clicking rhythm when I blew out. My leg was bouncing enough to power five sewing machines, and my fingers tapped a variation of a lullaby my mother used to sing.

"Are you trying' to power the plane by yourself, Nikko?" Joe asked from somewhere down to the left. I smirked and closed my eyes.

"Shut your trap Joe." He snorted indignantly and smiled that crooked smile while asking the guy across from him a question.

I was lost in my own little world, when a sudden hand reached out and grasped my dancing fingers. My head lolled over to up at Tab, who was gesturing for me to stand up. I sucked all the air out of the cabin, and I clutched his hand tighter and he half pulled, half lifted me up. It was then that I noticed a slight problem. I couldn't reach up high enough to reach the hook up line. At my weak size, I was barely allowed into the Air Force, because you had to be over 5 foot, and so in technicality I should not have been in the Paratroops.

"Tab!" I whispered behind me. Our Lieutenant was telling us to hook up, but I couldn't.

"What?" He calmly asked.

"I can't reach." I said as my cheeks turned a furious shade of pink. At the sound of that, Webster and Liebgott whipped their heads around, something like amusement and fear in their eyes as the Lieutenant ordered an equipment check. Tab was trying to check me while I checked Liz, all while trying to hook my silver clip on the line. He got it hooked up right when it was his turn to sound off. He slapped my arm hard, and I realized that it was really happening.

I swallowed the phlegm in my throat and hit Liz three times. We were slowly herded forward, and right before Joe leapt out to his obvious death, he shot me a wink, before flying out the door. As more and more people inched forward, my nerves suddenly calmed. How many times have I looked out of the window in the plane, wishing I could just be there, for a few seconds, alone in the sky. A fucking bird could do it, why couldn't I? So I did.

It was certainly not what I expected. People will say that it's like getting all the air knocked out of you, but it's more than that. For a brief moment, there is nothing. No life. Just simplistic stillness as the plane passes you, but you are just standing there it seems. Nothing but the light air holding you up. A sudden jerk of the parachute takes you from no feeling in the world to every possible feeling. The air is crisper, the sky is bluer, the ground larger. Everything is grander. Like being born again. Instinct kicks in and tells you to steer, to get closer to the ground. But I didn't want to. I wanted to stay in this peace forever. There was no war here, no death, and no life. Just existence. No painful memories to hold you back, and no broken promises to propel you forward. Just this.

The impeding ground took me out of my revere, and I quickly tilted my body just in time so that my ass would take the harsh blow. The parachute billowed sown next to me, but I couldn't move from where I was laying arms open wide, staring up at the expansive blue sky I just fell from. Someone to my right was struggling to gather their parachute up, and he was going to rip the tender silk if he wasn't careful. I slowly grappled up, gathering the parachute up in my arms, and burying my face into the soft material, trying to smell the clean sense of freedom in the sky.

I was sitting on the hard ground of the assembly area when a person flopped down next to me. I raised an eyebrow and stared with wide eyes and what I am sure was a terribly amused yet confused look on my face. Joe looked up through his elbow and smirked at me.

"What?" I asked as he rolled over onto his back and light up a cigarette.

"How was it?"

"Like nothing I've ever felt before," I said with an impassive smile lighting up my face. "how was yours?" By this point most of Easy had joined our quiet revere as we waited for our next time to go up.

"Like losing my virginity all over again." He said with his eyes closed as if a pleasant memory passed through his mind. Some of the guys hummed in agreement, some chuckled, but most of them did the same, closing their eyes as if calling on the precious moment of intimacy.

"Really?" I asked with another terribly red blush.

"Your saying you didn't feel that pressure, that unbelievably golden feeling of the warmth of a woman's…"

"Hey! We are in the presence of a lady!" Bill shouted over the chortles' and moans of men agreeing with Joe.

"Lady my ass, Nikko is one of the guys. She's more of a man sometimes than you are." Joe sneered, throwing his cancer stick down, about to start another fight. Bill was radiating fury, clenching his fists and grinding his teeth together. I rolled my eyes at the two.. They were like Capulet's and Montague's. They couldn't get along, but they needed each other cause no one else would dare rile up either of them. They could piss each other off, almost like they wanted to fight and get their faces punched in.

"Either which way, can you imagine Nikko has had sex yet?" George seemingly shouted to the entire platoon.

"Of course she's not a virgin. She wanted to fuck Bill." Joe chortled.

"How about you ask her instead of assuming." I roared. Chastened, they nudged each other to ask me.

"Are you a virgin?" Talbert asked plainly, as though the situation held no bearing to him.

"Yes." I said with as much dignity that I could muster. Cigarettes dangled from open mouths and wide eyes stared with some unknown expression in them.

"Oh." Bill said, looking the other direction, and other followed his sentiment. Except for Joe.

"So you're saying you are a virgin?"

"Yes. That is what I am saying. Would you like me to repeat it?"

"No, I'm fine. How old are you?" I gaped at him, hurt and indignity filtering through my body.

"We have been together for God knows how long, and you don't know how old I am."

"Correct. I only know your birthday is June 5th, but I don't know how old you are."

"I'm 20." "And you've never had sex?"

"How many times do I have to say it to get it through your thick head you fucker?"

"Have you even been kissed?" "No." I murmured with my face buried in my arms.

"What was that?"

"No." I whispered again."

"I can't hear you! Don't be a weakling about.." "NO!" I screamed, men spinning around like someone was trying to kill me, or rape me. I flushed and looked down. Orders were to get prepared, as it was time for jump two. The men quietly left, Joe sending me an apologetic look,

"I thought you had a fiancée." Lipton said, walking next to me, obviously listening to our conversation.

"I did. But it was an arranged marriage of sorts. It was puppy love, but he believed in courting me, and the day before we were to be wed, he wanted me to put out, but I wouldn't, so he went to my sister."

"Ah…"

The rest of the time went without a hitch. The same feeling of nothing and everything on repeat the entire day. I started to curiously wonder it Joe was right, and that feeling of being brought back to Earth in a single moment was what making love felt like, but then I realized what I had just thought, and as a girl from Oklahoma, a Southern Belle nonetheless, should never think such things.

The ceremony to get out jump wings went by quickly, and now I was sitting at a table with Liz, watching the Bill try to drink his jump wings.

"Hey! Nicole!" I spun around to see Joe holding out a beer for me, a hopeful smile on his face. I smiled and accepted the gift as a form of apology.

"I wanted to apologize about what I said earlier," Joe sighed. "What I said wasn't right. Can you forgive me?" I pondered a bit. I wasn't really angry at Joe, a little annoyed and pissed off, but nothing serious. I could hear the start of Bing Crosby's "Moonlight Becomes You" echoed from the makeshift dance floor, and a crazy idea formed in my mind.

"On one condition; dance with me." I said, leaning close and gave him my sweetest smile. He grumbled but grabbed my hand and lead me to where some of the other men were dancing with some women they had picked up.

He pulled me close and started swaying, one hand in mine, the other on my waist. He started picking up conversation, murmuring close to me, his breath tickling my ear.

"So, why dancing?"

"It was the only thing I could think of that you hated doing."

"You could have had me run up Currahee."

"But you look so nice, all dressed up."

"Thanks." He spun me around a few times, before dragging me back, sniggering at the way I stumbled into his chest. He started whistling along, smiling at me while doing so. I rested my head on his chest, content and comfortable enough to sleep.

Over the next few days, we traveled enough to make me not want to travel. We were compacted on a train, of which I fell asleep, pushed onto a boat that looked like it served no purpose other than transporting objects of large mass and smelling like projectile vomit. We were stuffed in tight, and my claustrophobic nerve set in. I was plastered between Bill and Joe Toye, slowly being pushed ahead by an over the top annoying man whose soul purpose was to take down our names and social security numbers, and hand us a life jacket. Bill took only one, shoving it into my arms and thrusting me forward.

"I'll have you know, I am a very accomplished swimmer." I snapped at him as he directed me toward the canopy like bunks.

"Just making sure. Stick tight with me, some of the guys are not as nice as me."

"I'm a big girl now, Bill. I can protect myself."

"Can you?"

"Yes." I seethed through my teeth, yanking my arm out of his and marching forward, as if to prove a point. Which turned out to be a bad idea. A large man I didn't recognize from the company was standing in the small path that lead to a semi-comfortable hammock. He didn't see me, and his shoulder slammed right into my face, knocking me straight to the ground, with a hand covering the majority of my face.

"Hey! Watch it pal!" Bill shouted from his crouched down position next to me, his arm protective around me. Toye had heard the ruckus and spun around, storming towards the man with undulated anger in his deep brown eyes. His loud clomping alerted Easy, and sure enough, half the company marched over, seething with fury. Toye had gotten into a small shoving match, and nearly tackled the guy, resulting in Skip pulling him back. It ended with the majority of Easy getting in a brawl with Dog Company, where the man was from. Liz was kneeling next to me, pushing a fabric that smelled like sweat and soap. It was quite familiar for some reason.

I pushed the shirt out of the way, releasing a sturdy stream of blood. Talbert had come over, and was hoisting me up, Bill had disappeared into the crowd of cursing men. He directed me towards Doc Roe, who was rolling his eyes at the obvious overdose of testosterone in the confined quarters. Eugene set me down on a cot away from the ruckus. After 5 minutes of examining, a confused expression fell over his face.

"Dear God, please tell me I don't have another concussion." I begged Eugene.

"No. But the bleeding hasn't stopped."

"It's probably Hemophilia."

"Your carrying the gene?" Eugene never reacted, so the bug-eyed came as quite a funny change of pace for me.

"Yeah, from my mothers side."

"How did you pass the physical?" He asked, with a inconceivable look on his face. I simply winked in return, directing my eyes elsewhere. He simply chuckled and pressed more fabric onto my nose.

After ten more minutes of holding my nose, Roe confirmed me good enough to go back with the rest of the men. I saw a large ruckus, of which Joe and Bill were the center of. I paused next to some guys playing poker, and asked what the hell was going on. It was pretty much Liebgott taking offense because Bill had called Sobel a Jew.

"Fighting over Sobel. That's smart." The losing man stated, gesturing for the guy to reshuffle the cards.

"Well, if they didn't have something to fight over, then they wouldn't get along." I said, shoving myself off the cot and through the fight. Which didn't end well. I had finally wiggled myself in-between them, thus taking my life into my own hands. They both paused mid-punch, slowing down enough to not hit me.

"Bill! You stand over there," I commanded, my voice sharper than I intended it to be as I pointed one way, "and Joe, you get over there now!" I barked, pointing the other direction. They both looked at me with looks of stupor written over their faces. "NOW!"


End file.
